Beautifully Broken
by Fritz76
Summary: It is Mothers Day just after the finale confrontation with Gerard the pack attempts to cope with all that has happened and return to normal, what ever that is. Oneshot written for the Teen Wolf Fanfiction Contest.


Beautifully Broken

What had he done? He could see the sun rise above the horizon clearer than he had thought possible. He could hear every sound the animals made in the forest around him. He could smell each individual tree for a mile. Yet, despite his enhanced senses, the only thing that Jackson was able to feel was guilt. He was a murderer. There was no way around that simple fact. Too many people were dead because of him. Heck, one person being dead because of him would have been too much, and Jackson had racked up a body count that made his skin crawl. Granted, he couldn't actually remember anything, but somehow not knowing only made things that much worse. As far as Jackson was concerned, people who wanted to forget about all of their mistakes and pain were fools. Here he was, a killer with absolutely no memory of what he had done and only his nightmares to keep him company. The nightmares were almost the worst part. He had no idea if the horrors he saw every time he closed his eyes were reflections of his mind tormenting a guilty soul or if they were indeed the suppressed memories of the deeds he unwillingly committed. As bad as they were, the nightmares were not the worst part. The worst part was that Jackson couldn't think of a single reason why anyone should ever forgive him or why anyone should ever trust him. He had done too much to ever be redeemed. Despite that, Lydia still loved him. Jackson had hurt Lydia more than he had hurt anyone else, and she still loved him. Jackson was not worthy of love, and he thought there wasn't a thing that he could do that wouldn't hurt Lydia even more. That guilt was too much to bear. Jackson slowly rose to his feet as the sun broke completely free of the surface. He would just have to bear this the same way he bore everything, behind a mask of false bravado and a smug and cocky face

X

What was he supposed to do? Scott was never good at deciding things, or making plans, or just not screwing up in general. He'd rather not think of all the things that didn't work the way he wanted them to. Today was important though. It was Mother's Day, and his mom deserved the best Mother's Day ever. Scott couldn't think of anything that he could do that would show how much he loved her. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that he should probably ask his mom what she would like to do and then do that perfectly. So with that in mind, he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Morning, Mom," he practically sang as he saw Melissa around the corner. He was probably trying a bit too hard to be cheerful. Hopefully his mom wouldn't notice.

"What did you do?" So much for not noticing.

"It's Mother's Day," Scott replied, as if that explained everything. However, the distinct scowl on his mom's face made it clear that she was still a bit on edge.

"Yes, I know that, dear. What I don't know is why you seem so chipper. Normally you're a bit of a zombie this early so I'm very curious why today is different."

This is why Scott _needed _today to be the best Mother's Day ever. His mom had never been a push-over by any means, but she used to trust him. Now, well apparently the fact that he wasn't super tired gave her reason to be suspicious of him. That had to change. Scott couldn't handle it if his mom couldn't even look at him anymore.

"I just want today to be perfect so that we can go back to when things weren't weird between us." Scott's eyes never left the floor as he said that, and his voice was more sheepish than he would ever like to admit.

His mother's sigh that followed told Scott that she understood everything that he hadn't said. She took a breath and looked Scott in the eye before she finally spoke. "I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me."

"I do trust you," Scott replied instantly, becoming a bit defensive at his mother's words. "I didn't tell you because I was trying to keep you safe."

"Scott!" Her voice was louder than she meant for it to be and she paused to collect herself before continuing. "I am your mother. It is my job to protect you, even if you don't think I can. Actually, especially if you don't think I can. I get it, I can't protect you physically from certain things which are apparently out there, but not telling me doesn't protect me and it doesn't protect you."

"Mom, you found out and not even a week later a giant lizard was holding you by your throat so that a creepy and psychotic old man could threaten me."

"That…is actually a good point." The five-second pause which followed was more than a little awkward. "You still should have told me." That last sentence left no room for argument. "You can take me to dinner tonight for Mother's Day." That was apparently the end of the conversation. Scott couldn't complain, though. At least they had finally talked about it, kind of.

X

Allison couldn't stop crying. After everything that she had gone through in the past few months, she was still acting like a little girl. She was ashamed. She sat on her bed, staring at a picture of her mother while trying to sort out her emotions. The effort was proving futile. What had she become? She used to know exactly who she was, exactly who her family was. Now, well about the only thing she was sure of was that she didn't like who she saw in the mirror. She was almost sure that her mother would be ashamed of her. Sadly, her sobbing didn't go unnoticed and Chris poked his head around the corner of her room, knocking lightly as he did so. He sat on the corner of Allison's bed and put his arm around her shoulder and let her cry against his chest. Eventually, Allison choked out a weak "She would be ashamed."

"Who?" Chris asked, concern thick in his voice.

"Mom" was the almost-silent reply. When Chris heard that shame come from his daughter's mouth, his heart broke even more.

"Allison, your mom loved you so much. She still does. She would never be ashamed of you."

"Yes, she would" Allison had stopped sobbing now, but her voice was still cracked. "She died because she refused to become a monster. I'm worse than a monster." She stopped, trying to regain what little composure she had. Chris seemed to be stunned by her words, but was listening very carefully. "I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be strong enough so that I would never have to be afraid. I never wanted anyone to be afraid of me."

"Honey," Chris began, the pain in his voice evident. "No one is afraid of you…" Allison cut him off.

"You saw the way Erica looked at me. You saw the way I looked at her." She was obviously fighting back another wave of tears recalling that night in the woods. "All she wanted was to not have seizures anymore. She wanted to be free. So I chased her down when she tried to run and I shot her, and when she pleaded for me to stop, I shot her again. How doesn't that make me a monster?" The look in her eyes at that last sentence bespoke an intense combination of pain and seriousness. Chris knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Victoria was not ashamed of Allison. He also knew that Allison was ashamed of herself.

"Allison," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "If you feel that who you are now is someone your mother wouldn't recognize, then you need to decide today to be the daughter she knew you could become."

Allison could barely manage a whisper. She knew her dad was right. Thankfully, she managed a meek "I know" before her tears silently overtook her. Her dad kissed her forehead before leaving her again to her thoughts. These wounds would take time to heal.

X

One day, Stiles would be able to get ready for school on time and without getting distracted. Today was not that day. Actually, today was the day that Stiles wished didn't exist, but it did and so he got ready. He was almost out the door, keys in hand, when his father stopped him.

"I'd like to go by this evening after work." The Sheriff's eyes were cast to the side, as if he felt guilty for what he had just said. After all this time, they still couldn't talk about his mom without bringing up all sorts of emotions neither of them could deal with. So they did what anyone would do, they talked around what neither of them was willing to say.

"I'll be home, but I'm going to go after school too. I…" Stiles hesitated, not knowing exactly what to say. "Uh…"

"I get it, don't worry" His dad knew what he couldn't say.

He closed the door behind him and climbed into his Jeep. By the time he got to school, he was smiling and ready to face the day he wished didn't exist.

X

Isaac would never admit it, but he actually liked school. Before he met Derek, it had been his safe haven where he was free from the horrors of his house. Now it was just annoying. Isaac still needed to learn so that he could eventually get a job, but lately all of that just seemed pointless. He couldn't understand how people who knew about the things that were happening could still be concerned about grades. Allison still had a flawless record and Stiles' grades had somehow gotten better. Isaac couldn't begin to understand the hyperactive kid that was Stiles. He did get Scott. Scott was always putting everyone in front of himself. He was always protecting everyone, which included a lot of people who either didn't want his help or didn't deserve it. Still, that never stopped Scott from trying. Isaac admired that. Sadly, that meant that Scott was failing more classes than he was passing and in the ones that he was passing he had Cs. So Isaac decided that he would do everything he could to help Scott not fail and have to repeat a year.

Allison was all sorts of crazy and despite the brave face Scott put on, he was not handling it well. Stiles was always there for Scott, but it was also painfully obvious that he was sick and tired of dealing with Scott's girl troubles. Isaac was surprised that Stiles managed to deal with Scott's on again, off again relationship for this long. He managed everything remarkably well, but the kid did seem off today. It was weird; he seemed more hyperactive than normal when he was around people, but in class he just seemed to stop. He actually paid attention in chemistry and didn't get detention. Isaac was happy that he hadn't seen Jackson or Lydia since Jackson become a werewolf. Jackson still gave Isaac the creeps and Lydia still irritated him. He'd get over it eventually, of course, but there were more important things now. Thankfully, none of his problems were currently trying to kill him, though, so Isaac turned his focus back to helping Scott pass his classes.

X

Scott had never really been good in school. Getting the Bite just took away all of his time and now he was doing horribly. It was a sad day when Scott realized he would rather be fighting a group of hunters trying to kill him than go to chemistry. Not for the first time, Scott found himself staring at himself in a mirror, wondering how this had become his life. At least he had spoken with his mom. Granted, it wasn't the conversation he was hoping for but they were going to celebrate Mother's Day like normal people. That had to count for something, right? He was going to be glad when it was tomorrow and he could talk to Stiles. Scott had found that it was best to let Stiles deal on his own and talking to him seemed to make things worse. So today Scott let Stiles smile and laugh without trying to comfort the pain that was building beneath the surface.

"Hey Scott," Isaac said, as leaned against the locker next to Scott's.

"Hey"

"So I was hoping we could study this afternoon."

"Sure, I probably should study more." Isaac tried not to chuckle at that.

"Great, so your place?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks."

The bell rang and both boys had to practically sprint to their respective classes. Still, Scott couldn't help but smile as he sat down. Perhaps his life wasn't so bad.

X

If nothing else, Derek made sure that he had his priorities straight. He had made mistake after mistake after mistake, but he had never done so without the best of intentions. He had never hesitated to do what needed to be done. He just wished people didn't hate him for it. Derek wasn't blessed with idealism; he was cursed with knowing just how real and ugly the world could be. Still, he had his priorities straight, which is why he waited until Isaac came home from school to drop off a few things before leaving again to study with Scott. And so Derek found himself in the Beacon Hills cemetery, standing in front of his mother's grave with a bouquet of wolfs bane and trying desperately to hold back the tears that were fighting their way to the surface. It was a losing battle.

When Derek was young, his mother had taught him that you laid wolfs bane at the grave of a loved one. He hadn't understood how poison showed that you loved someone, but he was beginning to understand. The pain that the plant caused his body reminded him of the pain that his mother's absence caused his heart. He doubted that this was the reason his mother had for laying flowers on her parents' graves, but Derek felt far from forgiven for his actions, and so he welcomed the pain. Rationally, Derek knew he wasn't to blame, but somehow that only made him feel worse. He couldn't be innocent when his entire family had died because of him. A single tear managed to escape Derek's eye as he knelt and laid the flowers next to his mom, "I'm sorry" falling quietly and painfully from his lips. He couldn't bring himself to say the rest of what he was feeling.

"I'm the reason you're dead."

It was so soft that even Derek's ears barely heard it. Those words wounded his heart. His soul ached at the sound of them, yet he wasn't the one who said them. Derek stood and when he looked to where the voice had come from, his heart broke just a little more.

Derek saw Stiles kneeling in front of a tombstone, a single yellow rose in front of him. His face was stained with tears which had long since dried. Derek recognized the mask Stiles wore and knew that Stiles wasn't the perfectly fine teenager that he pretended to be. Yet knowing that Stiles wore a mask hadn't given him a glimpse beneath it. This was really the first time he truly saw Stiles, and he was broken.

Everything that Stiles hid from the world was now laid bare before Derek: the pain, the anguish, the sadness, the desperation, the guilt, the hopelessness, and the anger. Stiles was broken, a raw nerve of pure emotion anchoring him to his humanity, to his mother.

It was then that Derek understood why Stiles refused the Bite.

X

It was the same every year. Stiles would visit his mother, alone. He'd clean the grounds around her and bring her a rose and then he would talk. The words he spoke were always different, but his ramblings inevitably returned to his cycle of lamentations: "I'm sorry," "It's my fault," "I'm the reason you're gone," "I _should_ have…" He always cried, especially when he thought of what he should have done. The truth was, he didn't know what he _should_ have done, but there must have been something he _could_ have done. His mother was dead, and he felt powerless. It wasn't strange for Stiles to have a panic attack just thinking of his mother's death, and when he visited her grave, it was almost guaranteed. Everyone thought his panic attacks ended years ago. He supposed that was another secret he would be taking to his own grave. He tried not to think about how he longed to be reunited with his mother sooner than she would have wished.

He had promised her that he would be strong, and so he kept on living. And so with just enough strength for one more day, Stiles stood. It should have surprised Stiles to see Derek no more than three feet to his side, but somehow the wolf had made his home in the shadows of Stiles' life. Knowing that was oddly comforting. They stood that way for a while, neither saying a word yet somehow speaking volumes which words couldn't communicate. It was Derek who broke the silence while tears fell from his eyes.

"I miss my mom, too."


End file.
